


Wounds to heal

by amaryllis (Lilly0)



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Boys Being Boys, Boys In Love, Comfort, Confessions, Family Feels, Feelings, Feelings Realization, Feels, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Healing, Healthy Relationships, Hurt Peter Parker, Irondad, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Past Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Romance, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark/Stephen Strange parenting Peter Parker | Supremefamily | Strange Family, Understanding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 11:37:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17487380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilly0/pseuds/amaryllis
Summary: Tony has learned to say he is feeling well when actually he isn't. The only one looking through his mask is Stephen. And then he also needs to look after Peter, who is fighting similar demons.(this sounds more angsty than it actually is :-))





	Wounds to heal

**Author's Note:**

> This is a get-together, rather fluffy story with hurt&comfort elements to it. I just suck at summaries :-)

Tony realizes it's getting harder to pretend every day. He tries so hard, but the wall around him has more and more cracks the more days pass. As if it's out of glass.

  


~~~

  


"Do you still need that pencil there?"

  


Tony blinks. Pencil... He just used it to write something. But what?

  


"Hey Tony?"

  


"Ah, sorry, Natasha," he forces a smile to his lips. "You can take it."

  


Natasha looks at him for a moment. "Are you alright?"

  


"Sure. Just caught up in my thoughts. I've been working on a new device, you know?"

  


Tony knows people will automatically stop being interested when he talks about technology and his work. They will leave him alone then, because they think it's too complicated for them to understand. Natasha is no difference, gladly.

  


Steve is a bit more difficult to trick. He has these piercing eyes and he is persistent. And he knows Tony... more than others know him. "You look pale," he states.

  


"I didn't sleep well yesterday," Tony answers casually. It's the understatement of the century, because he hasn't slept at all. And not only yesterday but for days.

  


Steve furrows his eyebrows. "Really?"

  


Tony chuckles. "Yes, Stevie, big pinkie promise."

  


It has the expected effect, because Steve just rolls his eyes. Relieved, Tony turns to leave for his workshop when Steve grabs his arm. Tony flinches, involuntarily so, and Steve lets go of his arm immediately. Like he got burnt.

  


"Sorry, Tony," he blurts out. "I didn't mean to..."

  


"No," Tony interrupts him immediately. "It's not... It's just, I've been thinking about my next project and I just... jumped."

  


Steve says nothing.

  


"I'm alright, Steve."

  


"You know, you can talk to me?" Steve finally says. "I will listen, always."

  


For a moment it feels almost alluring to tell Steve. To just explain how his skin is so sensitive sometimes that it hurts when someone touches it. How his ears ring when others talk. Unless it's Peter. Only Pete. And how he doesn't sleep because he is scared of the dreams that will haunt him. They are never good. How he wants to cry, but laughs instead. How he wishes to forget everything that happened.

  


This is Steve. He used to talk to him about almost everything.

  


It's Steve. He can trust him.

  


It's Steve.

  


No!

  


They can't go back to that time anymore. He and Steve are not the same anymore. He can't talk to Steve like he did back in the days. Too many things between them changed.

  


"Thank you," Tony smiles slightly. "I'll head to work for now."

  


~~~

  


Work at least distracts him. This is until there is a knock at his door. For a moment Tony fears it's Steve or Natasha or someone else, but it's...

  


"Peter?" Tony smiles.

  


"I brought you coffee," Peter grins.

  


"Really?"

  


"Yeah, just came back from school, and thought I'll get us the newest peanut-chocolate cappuccino from Starbucks!"

  


Tony chuckles. "Sounds disgusting."

  


For a split second Peter almost looks disappointed, then he seems to notice Tony's smile and grins too. "It's horrible, but in a good way!" He looks at Tony hopefully. "Can I watch you work? Or help? I could also just sit here and watch."

  


Tony raises his eyebrows. "Do you know how to work with a drill?"

  


Peter blushes. "No, sorry."

  


"Fine, then get one out of the shelf and come here." He notes how Peter beams at his words. "We are going to start with something simple."

  


~~~

  


Tony feels tired when he goes to bed. He always feels tired. On another night he would have stayed in the workshop but he feels drained, so drained that he can't even move his limbs properly.

  


He thought he could read something, but his eyelids feel heavy. He fights against them, against sleep, but he looses eventually.

  


He wakes up hours later, screaming.

  


~~~

  


He sees the slippers on the floor, right next to his bed, too late, drowsy from his nightmare, tired and exhausted his senses and reflexes don't work like they normally do. He stumbles, his arms flailing, trying to grasp something for balance, anything. He knocks the glass on his nightstand over before he drops down, hitting his head against the door and landing in midst of the shards.

  


The irony of it all, he thinks, like he is lying in the broken shards of his mind.

  


He is about to drift into a dark sleep again, his head dropping to the side slightly, when suddenly an excruciating pain jolts through his neck and head, accompanied by a burning sensation around the left side of his forehead.

  


Tony reaches out his hand, touching the spot. Blood.

  


Just great.

  


  


~~~

  


Tony has patched himself up as good as he was able to. Which doesn't say much. He just managed to pull the shards out of his arm, clean his bedroom and press a wet towel against his head.

  


Doesn't seem to be a concussion gladly. He knows how concussions feel. This isn't one, but it makes him feel like an idiot for getting hurt out of such a ridiculous reason.

  


He kind of manages to stay out of sight of everyone, gladly the tower is huge, until he stumbles over Steve in the kitchen. One of the kitchens, the one no one usually is frequenting, but it seems like sometimes Steve likes it a bit quieter too.

  


Steve looks at Tony in surprise, and obvious shock. "What happened to your face?" he asks in horror instead of greeting Tony.

  


Tony draws back before Steve can touch his face. "I tried out a new device," he lies, and rolls his eyes dramatically. "It was semi-successful," he continues in a matter-of-fact tone.

  


"Really? Do you need something? Help? Can I bring you some band-aids?"

  


He is kind, Tony figures, always was. "Please, Steve," he forces a grin to his lips. "This is not the first time this happened. This is normal Tony-Stark-working-mode."

  


"Fine." Steve chuckles slightly, and Tony wonders when it happened that he can lie so effortlessly. "Just let someone check on it," Steve tells him. "Maybe Bruce."

  


"Sure," Tony promises, and doesn't mean it.

  


~~~

  


"What happened?" Stephen asks in surprise, and points at Tony's forehead. It feels like a déjà vu, just that this time it's Stephen, not Steve.

  


Tony shrugs. Can as well go with the same lie. "I worked on... it was..." Somehow the words get stuck in his throat. He doesn't know why, but he just can't lie to Stephen.

  


Stephen looks at him for a moment, and says nothing. Just: "Sit down here." He points at the chair.

  


Tony is too flabbergasted to react in any other way than to sit down. Stephen cups his cheek, turns it slightly to the left and bends forward. He is so close now that for a moment Tony's heart skips a beat. Like...soil, leaves and trees, that's his scent. Stephen's scent is like the scent of a forest. Tony takes a careful breathe.

  


Stephen frowns. "It's pretty deep. It probably needs a few stitches." He looks around. "Give me a second, Tony, I will disinfect it and do the stitching."

  


Tony watches Stephen roam around in the workshop before he leaves for the bathroom. He could stand up now and leave, and spare him the embarrassment of looking into Stephen's knowing eyes, but he can't. Or doesn't want to. Or both. His limbs feel heavy. And his mind does too.

  


Stephen is back with some tissues and a spray. "I will anesthetize it locally. But it's still going to hurt a bit," he says, cupping Tony's chin and making him look up at him. "Just stay like this."

  


Tony does, he is weirdly fascinated by the way Stephen looks at him, how his expression is so earnest, yet knowing, and somehow fond. He likes the way he looks concentrated.

  


Tony winces slightly when Stephen starts to disinfect the cut.

  


"Sorry," Stephen says immediately. "Fine-motor skills are not my strength...anymore."

  


"No, it's okay."

  


Tony is not afraid of doctors or needles, but he doesn't particularly like them. He does however not feel any disdain towards this Doctor here. Stephen does the first stitch, it hurts, but not much. Then he stops. Tony doesn't move an inch, but he catches the exasperated look on Stephen's face and the way his hand shivers.

  


"It's okay," Tony says softly. He takes Stephen's hand into his, massaging it slightly. "Relax. It's not a real surgery. It's just basic first aid for you. You are not going to hurt me. As long as you don't poke my eyeball."

  


"Why are you doing that?" Stephen sighs. "You should rather worry about yourself."

  


"It helps," Tony says quietly.

  


Stephen looks at him for a moment. "I know," he finally says. "I know." He picks up the needle again, and finishes his job in one go now. "Here you go," he says while carefully placing a patch above it.

  


"Thank you," Tony smiles. He feels weirdly relaxed now.

  


Stephen's lips tug into a smile as well. He brushes with his finger over Tony's right eyebrow. "Just be careful okay?" He pauses, raising his eyebrows. "And try to sleep a bit. You are probably going to feel a bit drowsy."

  


"I will try to." Tony answers, relishing the little moment they are sharing right now. He is not sure if he really understands what's happening, but it feels good, and comforting, and good... so good.

  


~~~

  


Actually Tony thinks he did an okay job with trying not to get hurt immediately again (minus that little bruise on his hip. The desk was in his way while he was heading around in his workshop. Not his fault). And also on trying to sleep.

  


He thinks of Stephen's hands, and how he attended to his wound despite the slight shaking of his hands.

  


Tony drifts to sleep, without a nightmare lurking around the corner. The more he is surprised when he wakes up to someone screaming his name.

  


Tony isn't sure he has ever woken up so fast. He doesn't even take a second to think, just jumps out of his bed, knocks over something, ignores the pain in his stitched up wound and rushes towards the voice.

  


He kicks Peter's door open, ready to fight whoever is about to hurt the kid, just to see... no one. Except for Peter himself, who sits in his bed, covering his head in his hands.

  


"Pete?" Tony asks carefully, voice low and tentative.

  


Peter raises his head. "Why are you here?" he stutters, his eyes are weirdly dazed. Tony notices this look in his eyes immediately, he understands.

  


"I just..." He pauses. "Walked by."

  


"Really?" Peter asks skeptically. "What happened to your shirt then?"

  


It's only then that Tony realizes he ripped some buttons of his pajama top while jumping out of his bed and running here. "No idea." He pauses. "Can I borrow one of your t-shirts?"

  


"Sure!" Peter nods, he seems happy about the distraction.

  


"Where are the bigger ones? Not going to squeeze myself into an XS."

  


"I'm not wearing XS," Peter complains. "Right side of the wardrobe."

  


Tony grins slightly, happy he could distract Peter, and grabs the first shirt he can find. He pauses. "Really, Peter?" He blinks. "You have an Iron-Man-T-shirt?"

  


"What!?" Peter blushes slightly. "Oh, I mean, I liked the colors of it."

  


There are tons of things Tony could say now, but he chooses not to. He puts the shirt on. "I look ridiculous," he sighs. "I'm wearing a t-shirt of myself."

  


Peter chuckles. "But it suits you."

  


"Yeah, because it's me." Tony grins. "Would be bad if I didn't suit myself."

  


"Now it's getting too complicated."

  


"That's what I do," Tony points out.

  


"What?"

  


"Make things more complicated."

  


Peter shakes his head. "No, you don't!" he says with conviction. "You always make everything less complicated for me. God, that's embarrassing to say."

  


Tony sighs while he sits down at the edge of Peter's bed. "What did you dream of?"

  


"I died," Peter pauses. "But it's not the dying itself... it's the dissolving. And then being stuck...there."

  


Tony's heart clenches when he hears Peter's words. "I'm sorry, Peter."

  


"What for?" Peter stutters.

  


Tony sighs sadly. "For a lot of things. And I just wish I could take all these worries from you."

  


Peter looks down at his fingers, his lips twitching nervously. "I just want to be who I was a few months ago," he finally says quietly.

  


His answer hits deep, and Tony can't even recall how often he thought these words himself. "Come, make some place for me."

  


Peter robs to the side, making place for Tony to sit down properly. "I wish I could give back to you what you lost," he begins carefully, not sure how to voice what he wants to say. He is not...extraordinarily... good at this. It's probably just best to be honest. "But take it from a person who had similar thoughts a lot... We can't let our past dictate each and every of our steps, we have to face it and not let it pull us back."

  


Wow, wise words, you hypocritical asshole, Tony thinks, take some of your own advice. But Peter is young, he has a caring aunt close to him and he has people who genuinely care, Tony knows he is going to come out okay again.

  


He is going to be there to catch Peter whenever he falls.

  


"I know that, technically. It's just... when I try to face everything, it's sometimes getting hard to breath. Mostly at night," Peter admits.

  


"You know, talking can help," Tony points out. "Don't hide it."

  


"Talking? With whom?"

  


"Duh," Tony makes. "I'm the king of mental trauma. I'll always listen."

  


Peter opens his mouth to say something but before he can do so, there is a careful knock at the door, taking them both by surprise. "Yes?" Peter asks carefully.

  


Tony's eyes widen when he sees Stephen's slender frame.

  


For a moment it's quiet around them, then Stephen closes the door behind him. "Do you guys still have place for a third person?"

  


"Great," Peter sighs. "Now everyone knows."

  


"First of all," Stephen says. "I'm not everyone."

  


"And second?"

  


Stephen swallows slightly, like he just got caught midway of spilling something he didn't want to say. Tony takes the task from him. "Second, he thought it was me."

  


"What?" Peter blinks.

  


"I wasn't joking when I said I know a lot about this stuff. I mean, kid, if you want to battle me and win in the mental issues department, you have to get up earlier!"

  


"You are not that messed up!" Stephen points out.

  


Tony chuckles slightly. "Notice how he said _that._ He knows I'm messed up, he just doesn't think I'm a lost case."

  


"You are not messed up," Peter says immediately. "You are great! And kind, and generous."

  


"I agree," Stephen says while still lingering at the door. 

  


Tony waves at him and pats at the empty space next to Peter's left side. "Come."

  


"Hey, in between you two I'll run out of air," Peter complains, but the happy tone in his voice betrays his words. 

  


"You have a king-sized bed, and you are tiny," Stephen argues half-heartedly. 

  


"We could make a video night like this," Peter points out happily while the cloak drags himself over Peter and Tony. 

  


"Maybe another time," Tony mumbles, frowning slightly at the red fabric. "And who invited you?"

  


"I like it," Peter grins.

  


"Yeah, why am I not surprised."

  


Peter chuckles. His mood seems lighter again. "Sometimes I feel guilty," he explains to them. "But I don't know why. I just don't...understand."

  


"I feel guilty too," Stephen mumbles. 

  


Tony nods. "Me too." 

  


"But...what for!?" Peter's surprise amuses him.

  


"My guilt is not saving you guys before you turned to dust, and only later. And that I survived instead of you."

  


Stephen shrugs. "My guilt is that I couldn't warn anyone. I had to betray everyone and force us down a path that made everyone die."

  


"What?" Tony blinks. "Are you serious? This is a really bad reason to feel guilty!"

  


"Hey, don't judge my guilt!" Stephen raises his eyebrows. 

  


"It's just... you didn't betray anyone." Tony sits up a bit, wincing slightly when he does so.

  


Stephen's eyes snap open. "Your head?" he asks. "Is everything alright? And why are you wearing an Iron Man shirt?"

  


"Yes. Yes. And it's Peter's." Tony lies down again, blinking into the dim light of Peter's room. "You know, now that I think about it a movie sounds nice."

  


"Really?" Peter beams. "We could watch Sharknado!"

  


"Whatever you want," Tony gives in.

  


Stephen lets out a frustrated sigh. "Can't you two just sleep!?"

  


Peter makes huge puppy eyes. "I want ice cream."

  


Tony nods, the idea slowly appealing to him. "And I want popcorn." 

  


They both exchange a look before turning to stare at Stephen. "Why are you looking at me now?" he huffs.

  


"Please," Peter says. "The cloak is holding us back."

  


"Yeah, no moving here," Tony agrees, blinking innocently. 

  


"Oh, you," Stephen sighs dramatically. "Fine. I get your stuff. But we will only watch one movie!"

  


"It has six parts," Peter argues.

  


"ONE!"

  


"How about we compromise for four?"

  


Tony tilts his head. "A smoothie would be nice too."

  


Stephen stares at them for a moment. "Two movies. And I'll get you hot chocolate instead of a smoothie. It's easier to make and something warm."

  


"Okay," Peter gives in.

  


Tony smiles slightly. When Stephen comes back a few minutes later, he takes the place next to Tony now. Tony pretends he doesn't notice how their arms brush against each other, and how Stephen grasps his leg when he bends forward to hand Peter his ice cream. Secretly his heart makes a tentative happy jump. 

  


Stephen's hand remains on his arm for the whole movie, as if it's normal to be there. Tony doesn't push it away. He likes it.

  


~~~

  


  


Tony hasn't slept so well in ages. Whenever he felt something dark creeping over his soul, he suddenly felt Stephen's warmth next to him... and the darkness just left. He actually wakes up refreshed. He and Stephen decide to let Peter sleep in and have a late breakfast alone. 

  


"Is there something you can't do?" Tony asks when he watches Stephen preparing the perfect poached eggs. 

  


"You are one to ask."

  


"Well, I'm sure there are few things I can't do well," Tony pretends to ponder. "Like tap-dance for example. Quick decisions. Dying."

  


Stephen rolls his eyes. "Here, eat your breakfast." He puts a plate with eggs, toast and fresh fruits in front of Tony, and bends forward. "And one more word about dying and I'll tell everyone here so that they can come for you and tell you how stupid you are."

  


"You wouldn't!"

  


"Oh, I would."

  


"Evil," Tony pouts, before he chuckles slightly. 

  


"What so funny?" Stephen asks. 

  


"Nothing, really," Tony sighs. "Just that we are both so messed up."

  


"Peter thinks we are fine," Stephen smiles.

  


"Peter watches horror movies where aliens put eggs into people's bodies, and then breed them, and about how sharks appear in the dessert through a tornado," Tony retorts.

  


"Well, yes, you are right." Stephen snorts slightly. "You know," he says. "I somehow feel... although we are messed up, we aren't. Does that make sense?"

  


"Yes, and no." Tony looks up at Stephen for a moment, before he reaches out his hand. "But take off the gloves." 

  


Stephen looks surprised but obliges, taking off his gloves before reaching out his hands to grasp Tony's. Tony notices the slight shaking, a clear sign of what Stephen went through and what he sacrificed in the end. "You didn't betray me," he says softly.

  


Stephen stares at him for a moment before he looks away. 

  


"No, you didn't," Tony urges. "You had to make a difficult decision. I never blamed you for it, not even for one second. Actually I'm thankful you found a way where we would win and survive."

  


"Anthony-"

  


Tony rolls his eyes. "Oh please, only use my full name when you are mad at me."

  


"It's a beautiful name," Stephen smiles.

  


"I think Tony suits me more," Tony muses. "Anthony is so serious...and it reminds me of my father."

  


Stephen reaches out one of his hands and cups Tony's cheek. "Then I will always call you Tony."

  


"Well, I think if it's you... you are allowed to call me Anthony. Occasionally!" Tony says to his own surprise. "But don't make it a habit! And you are only allowed to do it if you answer one particular question."

  


"What's that?"

  


"Why are you like this? I mean, to me. So nice," Tony inquires, eyeing Stephen thoughtfully. "I know we fought side by side, and it makes people stick together, but... why are you suddenly so kind?"

  


Stephen doesn't say anything, just looks nervous all of a sudden. 

  


"Stephen?"

  


When he doesn't answer Tony just sighs. "Fine," he mumbles. He gets up, about to leave, when Stephen suddenly grabs his wrist. 

  


"Please don't go." Stephen begs. He sits down and pulls Tony closer.

  


He looks nervous, Tony thinks, anxious almost, and he just has to wrap his arms around Stephen, enjoying it how Stephen rests his head against his chest. 

  


"I saw the outcome of our battle two million times, remember?" 

  


Tony nods, realizing only a second later that Stephen can't see him nodding in that position. "Yes," he says. "You said so."

  


"So often. I saw everything. Everything. And every time..." Stephen chuckles. "I saw you too, and the both of us. How we first met, the different ways we continued to get along and fight, and our possible future together."

  


"What?" Tony blinks.

  


Stephen looks up at him. "Tony. I saw into our future every time while trying to see the outcome of our battle. I saw us too, you know, and... no matter the outcome of the battle, no matter if we died or not, you always found a way into my heart."

  


"How often?" Tony asks, voice hoarse. "How often did you fall in love with me?"

  


"Each and every time." Stephen looks almost frustrated. "It's always... you. It's almost like I'm obsessed by an evil spirit. And not only that you have such a self-destructive tendency and all those traumas haunting you, you are such a piece of work in general." 

  


Tony furrows his eyebrows. "If you look into the future now, what do you see? Do you really see me replying to such a crappy not-even-confession?"

  


Stephen raises his eyebrows. "I still see us making out."

  


"I don't." Tony grumbles, trying to ignore the frantic beating of his heart when Stephen stares at him. 

  


"I'm probably a complicated man, Tony, more difficult than you are," Stephen starts talking like their previous exchange didn't even happen. "I have a bad temper sometimes, and then I tend to lash out against those close to me, I'm capable of saying hurtful things, I'm probably arrogant and high maintenance, I like to do things on my own. And I have these hands and-"

  


Tony takes his face between his hands. "Shut up," he says. It's the same, he thinks. The same demons they battle. He smiles while he bends down a bit, his lips almost touching Stephen's

  


"I'm probably going to hurt you, Tony, even if I don't want to. One day I'll say something that will hurt you. Because that's how I am."

  


Tony chuckles slightly. "That's what happens sometimes when two people are together. I'm sure I'll forgive you.

  


"The last person I loved I drove away because of how I am."

  


Tony raises his eyebrows. "We are not discussing ex partners now. I'm not ready."

  


"What do you mean you are not ready?" Stephen says, sounding amused. "I mean, you don't even know who I was with. You however were with Steve and-"

  


"No, I wasn't with Steve. Steve and I did this sex-thing, you know, but no relationship stuff."

  


Stephen blinks. "Really? I could have sworn you were together."

  


"No," Tony chuckles dryly. "Steve would kill me when we were together."

  


"No, he wouldn't," Stephen retorts. "Because everyone is lucky when he has you at his side."

  


"You are doing it again," Tony pouts. "Saying such things and then backtracking and telling me all your negative points. As if I care about the one or two weak points you might have."

  


"It's definitely more than two!" 

  


"I sleep better when you are with me. So don't chicken out now or I will make Peter show you all the other Sharknado movies too." Tony frowns. "If you really mess up so badly, and if I don't forgive you instantly, then make me."

  


Apparently he has finally managed to catch Stephen's full attention... and his humor. "And how?"

  


"Well, depending on the amount you messed up, I like... romantic gestures. Write me a song. Cook me dinner. Abduct me and take me to a romantic place through your portals. Leave me romantic notes. Shower me in flowers. Or-"

  


Stephen chuckles slightly. "Come," he says softly, an arm suddenly wrapped around Tony's waist. He pulls him closer, so close that Tony is half leaning half kneeling over Stephen, his hands resting on Stephen's shoulders for balance. Stephen curls his fingers around his neck and pulls him into a kiss. 

  


When they draw apart, Tony feels how something behind his eyelids burns. To his horror the feeling gets stronger every second. "Is something wrong?" Stephen says, sounding alarmed. He is up his feet all of a sudden, hands brushing over Tony's arms. "You look like you are about to cry. Shit, is it something I did?"

  


"It's just..." Tony kind of wishes the ground would open up and swallow him now. Or maybe a new enemy could attack them... right now... please! "I'm happy. Really. And I'm not used to being happy."

  


Stephen blinks. "Are you sure that's it?"

  


"I know it's stupid, but I don't know how to handle being happy."

  


Stephen looks like he is holding back a laugh. "I'm sorry," he says when Tony glares at him. "But I never thought you would be so..."

  


"Pathetic?"

  


"I was rather going for adorable." Stephen smiles warmly. "I will try to give you more and more happy moments then." 

**Author's Note:**

> It's been forever since I posted an actual one-shot, I think. I was so busy with my advent calendar and multi-chapters that I had this piece here lying around for months ^^ 
> 
> I just felt like writing some comfortable IronStrange or rather Supreme family fic. I hope you liked it <3
> 
> As always your comments are loved and appreciated! ♥


End file.
